25 Words of Random Drabbling
by MissChastityClaireBabcock
Summary: Based off of a challenge I saw in another story's forum . . . Twenty-five random words used as a prompt and no restrictions? Oh the fun to be had!  Rating is just to be safe, based off a few choice words.
1. Group Ein!

_**So, I got this idea from a fabulous writer in the Law & Order SVU section, and just had to do it!**_

_**Basically, it's just 25 random words that I got from a Random Word Generator. The whole section, including the random word, has to be 75 words or less. It's harder than you think!**_

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own errors and frivolous ramblings. Don't sue me for playing with the Butler and the Socialite! <strong>

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><p><strong>Poster<strong>

"Niles, take down that horrid thing!"

"What? It's just a poster. I rather like it."

"Seriously. I can't lay here and let you ravage me while the bloody Queen of England is watching us. It's just awkward."

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><p><strong>Officer<strong>

She's blushing, trying to explain to the police officer what we were doing in the shed at Home Depot, though judging by the officer's blush, he already knows what we were doing.

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><p><strong>Expressway<strong>

I'm pushing the car faster, speeding down the expressway while she's screaming in the passenger's seat, clutching her distended belly and cursing at me in three languages. It's horrifying, but worth it. I just wish the hospital wasn't so far.

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><p><strong>Novel<strong>

He's been working on that dang thing for as long as I've known him, and never once has he asked my opinion of it. So I went behind his back, and now his novel's being published. Hopefully he won't think this changes anything between us.

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><p><strong>Forty<strong>

She says she's almost forty and I choke. If she's almost forty, then I'm almost the Pope. And you don't see me wearing any crazy hats, do you?

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><p><strong>Dot<strong>

She's got a smudge of ink on her cheek, a dot of black showing how many scripts she's read through, but she still takes my breath away, dot and all.

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><p><strong>Swim<strong>

It's days like this that I wish Maxwell would install a pool on the roof. I just want to submerge myself and never have to deal with 105 degree weather again. Seems Butler Boy agrees, seeing as how he's babbling about swimming. The heat always fries his brain.

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><p><strong>Lunchtime<strong>

I should take a tray up to Miss Babcock, but it's just too much fun to make her walk down to the kitchen to fetch her lunch. She could use the exercise . . .

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><p><strong>Solid<strong>

As I turn to leave the office, I run into something surprising solid. I'm shocked to see that I've hit the butler, and that my hand won't remove itself from his rock-hard chest. Oh my god.

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><p><strong>Discrimination<strong>

"Mister Sheffield, it's not fair to make her eat in here. Dogs are used to eating in the kitchen."

Maxwell looks up at me for a moment and then smiles discreetly.

"Yes, I s'pose it's discrimination if I treat one dog better than the other."

He just called me a dog. And I don't even care because Miss Babcock walked in just in time to hear him call her a dog. Life is good.

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><p><strong>Contour<strong>

I can't help but let my eyes follow the contour of her breasts as they slope into her shirt. I'm rewarded with a stinging slap.

"Next time you want to stare at my chest, Tidy Bowl, just ask."

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><p><strong>Transcript<strong>

If I have to sit through one more lame attempt at a transcript, I may scream. At least _the help_ is entertaining. That's the third time he's tripped over my foot.

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><p><strong>Intelligence<strong>

"Niles, I swear you have the intelligence of a peanut."

"Gee Miss Babcock, is that the standard unit of measure you use in your life?"

"Can it, Lysol."

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><p><strong>Sugar<strong>

She's staring at me with that look that tells me I'm going to need a lot of sugar to keep up tonight. Oh my god.

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><p><strong>Portable<strong>

She's rambling on and on about some newfangled device, a portable cellular phone that goes anywhere and I can't stop myself from getting lost in the depth of her blue eyes. I realize she's stopped talking and is staring at me with an odd look on her face. Busted.

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><p><strong>Guess<strong>

The smell of Chanel No. 5 gives her away instantly, but I play along as she covers my eyes.

"Guess who!"

"Grandmama? Is that you?"

She swats me, but when I turn and kiss her fiercely, she melts like butter.

"I've missed you, Witch. No more trips to Paris."

"I've missed you too. Now shut up and kiss me again, Butler Boy."

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><p><strong>Lemon<strong>

I can't stand when he's been cleaning the toilets. That smell, that horrid smell, is in the air and every time I smell it, I can't help it. I call him names.

"Hey, Lemon Fresh! Go dust somewhere else. You reek."

But as he walks away, my heart cries for him to come back.

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><p><strong>Continuation<strong>

I can tell this acting out is just a carry-over of yesterday's fight. He's angry about my Lemon Fresh comment. I don't really care. He stank.

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><p><strong>Six<strong>

It's been five days since I've seen him, and I'm already going mad. I have six days left in London, but if I don't get back to Butler Boy soon, there won't be any of my sanity left.

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><p><strong>Helping<strong>

She's helping Maxwell finish the set up for the big Backer's Ball, and as I set the tables, I'm struck by how beautiful she is. Almost as if she can read my thoughts, she looks up and we make eye contact. For a moment, it's just the two of us. But then she sticks her tongue out at me and breaks the moment. Witch.

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><p><strong>Mean<strong>

"Why would you say something so hateful? Are you trying to hurt me?"

"Have you not met me, woman? It's my goal in life to be as mean as possible."

"Yeah, well this time you've gone too far! No one insults my Chester and gets away with it."

"Oh woman, I wasn't talking about Chester. You're the dog I was referencing."

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><p><strong>Mailing<strong>

I've done it. I'm officially done. My letter of resignation is sent, going through the system at the very moment. Soon, Maxwell is going to regret his mailing that magazine to me. How rude, sending me a magazine about weight loss. What a jerk, that Maxwell. I'm C.C. Babcock, for God's sake. I don't need to lose weight. Do I?

I have to stop my letter. Oh my god, what have I done?

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><p><strong>Scored<strong>

He's grinning and it makes me nervous.

"What's wrong with you, Lemon Fresh?" I snap, irritated at his happiness.

"I just scored two tickets to Trans Siberian Orchestra," he responds, still grinning. "Would you like to go with me?"

Woah, that was unexpected.

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><p><strong>Sat<strong>

She sat there and watched me struggle to carry her suitcases to the guest room. I swear, I'm going to kill her.

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><p><strong>Chapel<strong>

"I'm so sorry it wasn't in a chapel."

"Niles, if we'd done it in a chapel, it would have felt like sacrilege."

"True. But we're married, and that's all that matters."

"I love you, Lemon Fresh."

"I love you too, Trollop. And I told you not to call me Lemon Fresh."

"Fine, Tidy Bowl. Fine."

"That's better."

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><p><em><strong>Well, whadja think? Should I do another set? It's kind of fun, actually . . . Review and let me know!<strong>_


	2. Group Dos!

_**So, here's another group of Random Word Ramblings! I really like these, they're super fun! This time, there are some that are more somber, not so lighthearted. But you know how it goes . . . there's also a few that have me giggling 'cause I could totally hear the conversation between these two!**_

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: I own nothing! Sad day! Well, technically, I own my mistakes. So don't kill me, please!<strong>

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><p><strong>Energy<strong>

How does he do it? He works day in, day out, never once complaining. He wakes up an hour before everyone else; he goes to bed an hour after everyone else. All day long it's work, work, and more work! I just don't understand how that fat lazy butler has the energy to do anything!

But wait, why do I care? He's the help, so why do I feel so bad?

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><p><strong>Sphere<strong>

I watch, frozen in place, as the priceless Faberge Egg wobbles, thrown off by the fact that it's not a perfect sphere. As it falls, my heart falls with it. And as it shatters, my hopes and dreams of living past today break into a thousand little pieces. Maybe I could just sweep it under the rug and ignore it.

"Wow Butler Boy, you're screwed."

Of course the Witch would see. Just my luck.

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><p><strong>Fancy<strong>

"Gosh, you got all dolled up for me? I feel so special."

"Can it, Lemon Fresh. It's a fancy restaurant. I had to dress up."

"Don't call me Lemon Fresh, you witch."

"Whatever, Toilet Brush."

"Trollop."

"Pond scum."

"I love it when you talk dirty to me."

"Get used to it, Brunette."

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><p><strong>Sunlight<strong>

Sometimes I wake up earlier than he does, just to watch the sunlight dance across his face.

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><p><strong>Boring<strong>

I swear, if this backer gets any more droll, I may die. At least Niles isn't being boring. He keeps trying to spy on my meeting, but he didn't realize that I booby-trapped the keyhole. So now Niles is walking around with a ring of black around his eye. I never get tired of that crazy idiot.

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><p><strong>Interruption<strong>

"Why on earth did you come storming in here? I'm in the middle of a very important meeting, and I don't appreciate this little interruption."

"Rochester, you're talking about recipes with a goose you're elbow deep in. It hardly seems important."

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><p><strong>Spitting<strong>

"Niles Andrew Brightmore, what are you doing?"

The former butler looked up, wide blue eyes meeting storming cerulean eyes. His wife was glaring at him, one eyebrow lifted so high it almost disappeared into her grey hair.

"Uh, nothing."

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you're in the middle of teaching Daniel how to spit," CC Brightmore snapped. "And spitting is such a nasty habit."

Niles grinned.

"Not for my grandson, it's not."

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><p><strong>Bang<strong>

The flash of the muzzle and the delayed bang are the only signs that something bad just happened. California was supposed to be safer than New York City, but here I am, bleeding to death in some dark alley wishing my wife was here to hold my hand. It was just a trip to fetch her some ice cream, interrupted by the mugger. I hope Chas knows how much I love her.

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><p><strong>Stand<strong>

Watching her stand there, holding that check for escorting her to that benefit, I feel something odd. Is that a positive emotion geared toward the Bitch of Broadway? God save us all.

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><p><strong>Overflow<strong>

"Well obviously I didn't _mean_ to make this happen, you buffoon!"

"How dare you call me a buffoon, you wench! You were the last one in there, and now the toilet's overflowed. It's clearly your fault."

"Oh shove it, Merry Maid, and clean this up!"

"I hate you, Trollop."

"I hate you more, Lemon Fresh."

"Don't call me Lemon Fresh!"

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><p><strong>Secondary<strong>

I don't want to break the kiss, but the need for air is secondary only to the need to make sure I'm awake and not dreaming about kissing Miss Babcock again. Last time, waking up to find my pillow instead of the blonde nearly broke my heart. I really hope this is the real thing. And I need to breathe.

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><p><strong>Game<strong>

She's accused me of cheating. Seriously? Who cheats at a game of Operation? How is that possible? Silly woman.

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><p><strong>Stone<strong>

I swear he's like a chunk of granite: immovable, cold, and unforgiving. So I called him Lemon Fresh again. Why should he be so angry a week later? Men, they're all so sensitive.

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><p><strong>Unique<strong>

There's something about her, something so mesmerizing that I can't breathe. She's rude, stubborn, harsh, and mean. But at the same time, underneath all that, she's caring and sensitive, and sometimes even compassionate. It's such a unique combination, and a rare occasion when I get to see the true her. Honestly, I love . . . it. I love it. That's it, nothing more.

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><p><strong>Steady<strong>

If he comes in this office one more time, I'm going to shoot him. No, steady now. There can't be any shooting of the help around here, even if he is a fat, nosey, overstuffed butler. Maxwell would be furious.

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><p><strong>Elephant<strong>

She sounds like an elephant in those heels, clomping around. It's going to drive me crazy. But I've been particularly cruel concerning her weight lately, so I don't think I'll say anything. Even elephants need a break, right?

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><p><strong>Installation<strong>

He's watching the electrician with eagle eyes, hovering as though the installation of a new intercom system concerns him. Who am I kidding? Niles is so excited he's practically jumping up and down. But he doesn't know I have the remote. I can turn the intercoms off before I even get into a room. He'll be so disappointed, and that's one point for me.

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><p><strong>Motive<strong>

"My client had no motive to sleep with that poor butler, your Honor."

"Being proposed to 5 times is enough to drive anyone mad, Niles."

"Your Honor, I object."

"Niles, who are you talking to? There's no judge here. It's just you and me."

"I know, I'm just setting up your defense of insanity."

"Tidy Bowl, you don't have to set up a defense. We're just role playing. And you're the crazy one."

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><p><strong>Outrage<strong>

I'm surprised to see her fly into the kitchen, her coffee cup in her hand. She brandishes the cup at me, glaring.

"Rochester, this is an outrage! My coffee tastes different, and I won't stand for it! What did you do?" she demands, and as calmly as I can, I look up at her with a grin.

"Your cup was clean for the first time."

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><p><strong>Premature<strong>

The tiny bundle of pink is whisked away as soon as she's born, premature by 5 weeks. Chas wants to know what's going on, but the best I can tell her is that Lauren Claire Brightmore is fine, that this is standard practice, even though I know it's not and I'm terrified.

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><p><strong>Minute<strong>

This is the man who's never been late for anything in his entire life, not even by a minute. So where the heck is he with my ice cream? It's a ten minute walk to the store and he's been gone half an hour. What the hell is going on here?

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><p><strong>Unconscious<strong>

He opens the door and I swear if I don't breathe, I'll be unconscious in two seconds. He's got the most gorgeous eyes! But, oh my god, he's the help!

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><p><strong>Moment<strong>

It's funny how much your life changes in one moment. One moment we're standing there hating each other, the next moment he's got chocolate sauce and whipped cream all over my body and he's eating it off of me.

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><p><strong>Painting<strong>

She's more beautiful than the Mona Lisa and when I tell her so, she says she wouldn't know, she's never seen the painting in real life. And that's how we wound up in the Louvre, standing side-by-side, staring at a painting that pales in comparison to her.

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><p><strong>Aging<strong>

She's crying, a photograph clutched in her hand. It's from her childhood, and she's sobbing about being so old now. I tell her it's not all about aging, it's about who you've aged with. And now she's sobbing because it took so long for us to find our happiness with each other. I kiss her, and remind her that our fairy tale came true. We got our 'happily ever after'. And then she's gone.

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><p><em><strong>Thank you so much for reading! What did you think? Just click that little link and let me know!<strong>_

_**Also, which one (if any) was your favorite? Did you favor one over another? Did you dislike one? Please, help me grow as an author by telling me!**_

_**~Chas **_


	3. Group Trei!

_**Sorry it's taken me so long to update, but my family was in town and it was a crazy week! **_

**_Thanks to frandrescherrules, Kittensbreath, AllTheSnakes, slm38, and Lucky Starz for their reviews on the last chapter. I appreciate your honesty!_**

**_Hopefully this set of words lives up to your expectations! Read on and enjoy!_**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own pitiful mistakes! And now, here's the next set!<strong>

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><p><strong>Cord<strong>

Niles held the scissors in one hand, looking apprehensive. The lady in front of him smiled, nodding encouragingly.

"It's okay, you can do it."

Niles took a deep breath and, with his wife and a roomful full of doctors and nurses watching, he cut his daughter's umbilical cord.

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><p><strong>Hammer<strong>

"Hey Witch."

The sudden appearance of the baritone voice makes me miss the nail I'm going to use to hang the picture, and the hammer smashes my thumb. As I'm hopping around screaming, the cause of my pain leads me into the kitchen and ices my poor throbbing thumb. He's so gentle and tender that I can't help but feel the anger melt away.

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><p><strong>Verse<strong>

We're in bed, cuddled together as he reads verse after verse of Shakespeare in that baritone voice that puts my mind at ease. I love this man.

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><p><strong>Persian<strong>

There's ink on the Persian rug and Maxwell is going to kill me! I'll just blame it on the butler . . .

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><p><strong>Roadway<strong>

"There's ice on the roadway, I can't drive to the Penthouse, Maxwell."

"Then stay in the guest room, I'll have Niles fix it up for you."

"Thank you, but I'll pass."

She couldn't spend one more night away from him, and the bad weather gave her a reason to find her way into his bed.

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><p><strong>Thought<strong>

As he stared at the blond in his arms, twirling around the dance floor, a random thought kept flitting across his mind.

He was in love with the Wicked Witch of Broadway.

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><p><strong>Headliner<strong>

"You got Bette Midler to be the headliner for your next show?"

The lie was worth it just to hear Butler Boy's voice go up three octaves.

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><p><strong>Refund<strong>

As she's at the Guest Services counter yelling at the poor clerk about something she's returning and demanding a refund, I watch her. Her blond hair is twisted into a simple bun at the nape of her neck, her two thousand dollar suit is impeccable, her French manicure is perfect, and her attitude screams "Don't mess with me."

She's perfect, isn't she?

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><p><strong>Children<strong>

It makes me laugh to think that she was ever scared about not being a good mother. Watching her hold our son, Daniel, I feel a lump in my throat. Our four year old Andrew is sitting on one side of Chas, while Lauren, our seven year old, is sitting on the other side. The three of them are looking at Daniel and the sight of my wife and children make me teary eyed.

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><p><strong>Pants<strong>

"Come on Toilet Brush! It can't be as bad as you say it is."

"Trollop, I told you. I won't come out of the bathroom."

"Oh my gosh, Lemon Fresh. Come on!"

He mumbled something, but I couldn't make it out.

"What was that, Rochester?"

"I just ripped my pants."

I think I just peed myself.

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><p><strong>Ton<strong>

"Oomph! You weigh a ton!"

"Shut up, Witch. You have no room to talk."

"You know, I'm in the mood for a soufflé."

"I rest my case."

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><p><strong>Nickel<strong>

If I had a nickel for every time she makes a joke about herself, I'd be rich. And it makes me sad, 'cause she has no idea how amazing she is.

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><p><strong>Basket<strong>

"Merry Maid, what's this?"

"What, you've never seen a picnic basket before?"

I want to laugh, but the sight of him standing there holding a packed picnic basket is just too cute.

"Is it for me?"

He looks nervous, shuffling from side to side. He shrugs and smiles a little.

"I thought you'd like to have a quick bite to eat in the garden, since Maxwell plans on keeping you here all day."

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><p><strong>Soy<strong>

She only drinks soy milk, though I can't figure out why. She claims it's for weight-loss, but she's just perfect. Why would she need to lose weight? I really have to stop making jokes.

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><p><strong>Aftermath<strong>

The shattered vase, crooked Picasso, and knocked over end table are the aftermath of our date. It wasn't supposed to get so passionate, but once he started kissing me, that was the end of my self-control.

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><p><strong>Coma<strong>

The doctor has him in a medically induced coma, trying to give his heart a break from having to be worked too hard. I've been sitting with him since they brought him here, and though the doctor says he's going to be fine, I'm still shaky. This is my fault, and when he wakes up, I'm going to tell him my true feelings and make everything up to him.

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><p><strong>Van<strong>

She's got an amazing vocabulary, that C.C. Babcock. When that van cuts off the limousine I'm chauffeuring her in, you'd think there was a drunken sailor in the back seat. It's impressive, actually.

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><p><strong>Tuesday<strong>

Tuesday, January 27th. The day my youngest son was born, and the day my family became complete. Daniel Phillip joined Lauren Sarah and Andrew Mathias, making Chas and myself the happiest parents ever.

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><p><strong>Drizzled<strong>

He just drizzled caramel sauce over my body and is licking it off.

Oh. Sweet. Heaven.

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><p><strong>Support<strong>

"And do you, Daniel, promise to love and support Alexis for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do."

My baby boy just vowed his love to a beautiful young woman, and Niles and I officially have the house to ourselves again. Time to rechristen those rooms, I s'pose. That man is insatiable!

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><p><strong><em>Let me know what you think! Click that pretty little link down there to review this chapter! If you'd like me to expand a random drabble, let me know!<em>**


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